I was so sick on Saturday morning. We were in Boyfriend’s parents’ house. I had been out with him and the clan the night before and awoke early Saturday morning with heaving stomach cramps. I am now familiar with the discomfort of child labour. Boyfriend and his parents speculated on the cause of the illness. Majority leaned towards the fuck off onion rings I had devoured on the way back from the pub a few hours earlier. They were huge; I’d never seen so much batter on anything. I begged Boyfriend to drive me home. During the drive home he and I fought.
“Oh my fucking God,” he roared while the electric window wound open. “That smell is unearthly. What the fuck?”
“Fuck you,” I roared back at him. “I can hardly do anything about the smell of my farts when I am so sick”.
“Don’t roar at me like that,” he protested angrily.
“Don’t complain about my bodily functions, while I am extremely ill.”
I seethed with anger. Neither of us spoke for a few minutes until we apologised to one another. The remainder of the drive was probably one of the longest journeys ever. I felt every bump and turn in the road. Stomach cramps washed over me every few seconds. Sweat covered my brow and back. I was suffering from a chill and felt so cold. Boyfriend’s parents had recommended a concoction of brandy and port to settle my stomach. The home remedy sloshed idly in my stomach. I felt increasingly nauseous.
The car eventually rolled up the driveway of our house. “Do you want to get out?” Boyfriend asked before switching the engine off. I was already out of the car. I scrambled to the hall door and fumbled around for the key. It was then I foresaw what would happen. I leaned forward on the wheelie bin and threw up purple bile all over the driveway of our house in broad daylight. I turned towards the car and looked pleadingly towards Boyfriend, who sat in the driver’s side of the car open mouthed and in shock. I turned away and puked again. I regained my composure quickly. Boyfriend drew my attention from within the car.
“Go inside,” he mouthed from within the car as he pointed to the hall door.
I tried to open the door again before heaving another amount of discoloured stomach fluid. Boyfriend joined me in the kitchen to fetch boiling and bleach to remove the street art from his driveway. “Tell your parents that I am grateful for their home remedy, but I don’t think it was useful in this case”. I set off in the direction of bed. I lay under two duvets and waited for my pain to pass.